


My OC, Balonia

by Capucine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bad Fic, Humor, M/M, OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Balonia, a newly formed country that formed in the sea near New York, is made a G12 member, America can't take his eyes off of him. Will they get married and make sweet love, or will other, jealous countries try to put their hands on America's precious Balonia-chan?</p>
            </blockquote>





	My OC, Balonia

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of satire; it's bad fic, which is purposely badly written fanfic that makes fun of common flaws in fanfic. It's meant to be humorous and not mean. I do not hate England or France or any of the characters in the story, no matter what happens to them. This is specifically a bad fic of made-up country OCs.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

His eyes looked like gems that changed from rubies to amethyst to diamond and then to sapphire. Balonia was the most beautiful boy that America had ever seen, with his pale skin and full lips and thick white eyelashes and long black hair with red streaks.

“Since Balonia is a new emerging country, we’ve made him part of the G12,” England intoned, as boring as a very, very boring rock. In fact, America could say he had never and would never ever have attraction to England; he’d almost forgotten he even existed with Balonia in the room.

Switzerland dropped his gun, staring at Balonia. “You’re more beautiful than a musket,” he murmured, then shook his head. “Did I say that? I didn’t say that, because if I’m not angry the author doesn’t know how to characterize me!”

“Shut up, Switzerland,” America said, a puddle of drool gathering on the table.

Balonia smiled like a million Christmas lights were in his teeth. “Eto, I’m so nervous to be part of the G12, Alfred-san.”

“Big brother France will help you,” France purred, naked except for a rose and already reaching down Balonia’s pants.

“Oh! A-A-A-Alfred-chan!” Balonia stuttered, turning an adorable shade of red.

America knew he had to save Balonia, since Germany was too busy awkwardly making out under the table with Italy, who kept making extreme sounds of delight and arousal.

“Don’t worry, Balonia!” America picked up a chair and bashed France in the head. Then, once he fell to the ground, he continued bashing until no more sounds came from him and he was a bloody mess.

“Bloody fucking biscuit hell,” England said in a jealous way, but still boring as a stale cookie. He stared stupidly at America, but he was too stupid and ugly to compete with Balonia.

Balonia shivered nervously, tiny body cushioned against America’s chest as he held him bridal style. “Th-thank you, Alfred-chan,” he said, and America kissed him on the mouth, their tongues battling for dominance.

England made a sound like a fish, saying, “Paperwork!” but he was still boring, so he was ignored in favor of Balonia’s sweet, sweet lips.

Balonia’s mouth tasted like candy, and America was eager to get all he could.

They made out like it was their last day on Earth.

“America, where did Balonia even come from?” Canada ventured, shaking with his bear clutched to his chest.

“Somewhere in the ocean near New York; a new island formed,” America said in one breath in between kissing Balonia.

“Oh, okay,” Canada said, ignoring that land took a while to form and that it took even longer for it to be anything settleable. 

“Who are you talking to?” England said, mouth hanging open stupidly.

“I don’t know,” America managed between mouthfuls of Balonia’s sweet tongue and lips.

“Canada,” Canada sighed, but then Prussia showed up and dragged Canada off to an empty meeting room to make out, so he didn’t care about Balonia anymore.

America knew right then and there, as he felt Balonia’s ass through his pants, that he had to marry Balonia. “Sweden! Marry us!”

Balonia gasped, face red from all the making out. “O-Oh, Alfred-chan, I thought you would never ask!”

Sweden grunted it out, and no one could understand him because he was practically a cave man and had never learned to communicate, but America and Balonia both said, “I do,” Balonia with tears sparkling in his eyes.

America swept up Balonia in his wedding dress, kissing him on the mouth like he was popcorn at a movie. Balonia’s veil fell off his head, and then they disappeared to their hotel room to make love.

They lived happily ever after. 

THE END


End file.
